Those First Moments
by The King of Bronze and Copper
Summary: "You know how a baby cries its first time, at the sheer horror of being alive?" One-shot. No real point to it.


Just a short little fic on my outlook on what would happen after you "Revived" after defeating a demon. If youre dead, and in Soul Form, you wouldn't need to breath/sleep/ other things that humans must do, so imagine feeling the need to do that, all at once! Reviews are appreciated! I don't own Demons Souls!

He stood behind a pillar near the back of the room, one of the only ones that wasn't broken. He could feel the beast searching for him, albeit slowly.

Its face was torn and weathered, and bandages weaved their way across his eyes. Without warning, the beast swung its massive blade in a wide arc, slicing nothing but air. He had been steadily injuring this monstrosity, and its movements were becoming sluggish, and more erratic. Normally, after this much battle, he would become tired and lose focus, but this new form of his didn't suffer from fatigue.

His grip tightened on the hilt of his blade, the next attack he made would be the last. The beast began swinging his sword wildly, toppling another few pillars. After realizing no progress was made, the beast arched its back and opened its mouth with fury. He took this as his chance; he rolled out from behind the pillar, and sprinted at the beast. It heard the clanking of metal footsteps and began turning around, only to be met with a sword blow to the stomach. The mans gauntlets began staining with colourless liquid, which he knew was blood, as he drove the blade deeper into the Demon. It gave one last futile attempt at swinging its blade before dissolving into a soul.

The man swung his sword in a circle before holstering it on his hip. He braced himself mentally for what was about to come. He turned around, seeing a glowing sword at the far side of the room. He walked over to it, and placed his hand on the hilt. He felt the soul of the Demon flow into his Gauntlet. Then there was a new feeling. A feeling he couldn't describe.

Burning began to fill his new lungs, as the need to breath hit him like a punch to the chest, and he inhaled sharply. He coughed and sputtered as blood began flowing through fresh veins. Tears welled in his eyes at the sharpness of the world around him. He threw his helmet off of his head, needing to get air unfiltered through a mask. He stumbled over to a wall, using it for support, and wretched. It was painful and dry, since his stomach had no occupants. His stomach growled menacingly, demanding he provide it with sustenance. A warm substance began flowing on his face, to which he raised a gloved hand and discovered it to be blood. The crimson liquid poured out of his nose, and his vision swam and rocked with spots of all different colours, something he had not seen in what seemed like ages.

He turned his back to the wall, and slid down it, now painfully aware of how heavy his suit was, and each individual plate that was digging itself into his skin. He heard the clang of metal hitting the stone floor as he fell onto it. His ears began ringing at the sudden sound it was experiencing. He tried to bring his hands to his ears, but found that even trying to move caused his entire body to scream with pain.

It was done. He was alive again. He could taste the dank, ancient air. And smell blood, and injured flesh. He could see the shades of green that the moss staining the rocks around the room was. But more than anything, he felt tired. He breathed slowly and painfully, almost forgetting he had to at moments. It had been so long, since feelings were his to have at all. He coughed out a small laugh, at the irony of it all. Being alive was one of the most painful things he's ever experienced. And in his line of work, that was a lot_. Dying,_ he thought, _dying is easy. You don't feel anything, and then you fade beyond the Nexus_. He chuckled painfully again but winced at the effort. He could feel his heart beating through all the veins in his person. His whole body tingled with pins and needles, as if it had fallen asleep and awoken at the same time. His bones creaked every time he tried to move anything, and his muscles were splitting themselves from the effort of keeping him upright.

The fog of unconsciousness gripped at his head, but he resisted. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to be awake, if just for a few minutes more. He drank in the feeling of living. He savored every last second, because he knew, that it might not be long before death got its icy mitts on him once more. Tears finally began flowing freely down his cheeks. He smiled through perfect lips. So far, this new flesh was accepting his soul as it should. He could feel every part of his new body, and, though he didn't try, he felt as if he could move it all. He wondered for the umpteenth time, how his equipment had founds its way to this flesh. But with the power of the Nexus, he didn't second guess it.

His eyelids began drooping, and he knew he couldn't stave off rest any longer. He inhaled thoughtfully one last time, before letting sleep over come him. Beautiful, beautiful, sleep.


End file.
